Ten-Kilowatt Sun

by Taylor Graham

Unshaven Winter goes nattering
the fields and creek-bottoms,
leaving muddy prints; checks his
shadow by the weathercock’s skeleton
that whines to everlasting wind.
Late sun angles down on the single
color-spot, a yellow wheelbarrow
missing its wheel.
The woodpile diminishes.
Only coyote-bush rejoices,
white blossoms buoyant with seed.